


The Problems with Typecasting: Dumpsterfire Edition

by Dresupi



Series: Dumpsterfire-Verse [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Humor, Idiots in Love, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Romantic Comedy References, Seduction, Smut, WandaVision spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29660766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Darcy has a type, and Peter definitely ticks all her boxes.Problem is, her type is a dumpster-fire on two legs.Not only does she seem to attract them, but they also attract her right back.So she's got to stop him from barking up the right tree both before this metaphor gets away from herandbefore she finds herself fanning the flames.Easy-peasy. Totally. Not a problem.(Spoiler alert: Itisa problem)
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Peter Maximoff (X-Men)
Series: Dumpsterfire-Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181786
Comments: 32
Kudos: 112
Collections: Dresupi's X-Men Quicktaser Fics





	The Problems with Typecasting: Dumpsterfire Edition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiwigirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwigirl/gifts).



> Part of my Song Prompts 2021 collection:
> 
> The song is 'Good Girls Go Bad' - by Cobra Starship.
> 
> Also, fight me, until told otherwise, "Pietro" is Peter from the Fox Universe. (Y'all can I just scream about how close my lil crackship is to becoming a possibility? Like, I NEVER in a bazillion years thought they'd ever meet, and here we are, possible meeting on this Friday's episode??? I tagged for Wandavision spoilers because like... if you haven't watched the show and stuff like maybe you're waiting to binge it? I don't want you wandering in and me spoiling something without realizing it, so that's why the tag is there. <3 <3 <3

“So like, if Peter comes by and says anything, I’m dating Reed Richards,” Darcy called across the lab to Jane, who was either staring intently at her computer screen or sleeping with her eyes open again, but it wasn’t really Darcy’s problem anymore. They were colleagues now.

Okay, well, Janey was her friend, but she had majorly important shit to do as well. “Jane!” she called.

“I heard you. Since when are you dating Reed Richards?” Jane asked, her fingers clicking on the keys.

“Since he owes me like a billion favors and I called them all in to have him pretend to be my boyfriend so Peter would leave me alone.”

“Yeah, but Mr. Fantastic? Peter’s never gonna buy that you’re dating him.”

“Why not?” Darcy asked. “I’m perfectly pleasant. Not like they’re ever going to run into one another or anything.”

“I _know_ ,” Jane replied. “You’re a catch. Reed’s a dick. No one would ever believe that.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but I’m hoping he just like… takes the hint. He’s been kind of laying it on thick and I don’t have the willpower to resist him for much longer, so…”

“So…” Jane echoed. “You should just date him. He’s sweet.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “He poses. Don’t let him fool you. He’s absolutely my type.” Which, shouldn’t be an insult, but considering her track record, it sort of was.

“So a flaming trashcan on two legs?” Jane asked.

“Got it in one,” Darcy deadpanned, pulling out her phone to text Reed to make sure he was aware of his commitment. At least for the near future. Hopefully, Peter would just take the hint and stop trying to get with her.

“You know who else is a flaming trashcan on two legs?” Jane asked.

“Who?” Darcy asked. 

“Jason Mendoza. And we both know you wouldn’t toss that idiot out of bed if he was real and wanted to date you.”

Darcy groaned. “If he was real. Jason Mendoza isn’t real. He’s too perfect to be real. No one’s a Jason Mendoza. They’re all Johnny Storms. Just a sec, I’mma message Mr. Fantastic.”

Of course just as she opened up the chat window, she already had a message from Reed. 

One word: “Oops”

Her stomach sank. “What fresh hell,” she replied.

“You know the conversation we had last night about you phoning in all your favors?”

“Yes,” she said, stomach sinking even further.

“I haven’t had my coffee, and I sort of forgot I was supposed to be dating you.”

“What did you do, Richards? I’m calling you.”

“Fine,” he replied, and Darcy called, he answered on the first ring.

“The fuck, Reed. What did you do?”

“Nothing! Nothing, I swear. Except like… I forgot I had to give an interview this morning.”

“A what now?”

“An interview. For one of those fluffy pieces about amazing people they like to do for morning talk shows? Hence, you know. Them wanting me on the cover and whatnot. Anyway, they asked about my personal life and that’s where it happened.”

“Where what happened?” 

“Where I talked about my girlfriend. By name.” He at least had the decency to sound a tiny bit contrite.

Darcy sighed, understanding completely and wishing she didn’t, because honestly. That lasted all of eight hours. “And you talked about Sue because Sue _is_ your actual girlfriend.”

“Yeah… yeah, I did. Sorry, Darcy.”

“I mean, she _is_ your girlfriend for real,” Darcy groaned. “But I guess that blows my backup plan out of the water.”

“Ben would absolutely go to bat for you in the future, though. Johnny too.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Johnny’s half the reason I need a boyfriend on deck as it is.”

“Ben, though?” Reed offered.

“Ben is sweet. So thank you. But suggesting him doesn’t get you off the hook. I’ve pulled a lot of strings for you, Mr. Fantastic.”

“I’m well aware, Dr. Lewis,” he replied, definitely trying to butter her up now, but she’d take it. 

“When does it air?” she asked. Maybe it would air later in the week and give her a chance to run damage control.

“It finished airing about two minutes ago.”

Well, she had to hope Peter didn’t watch that particular talkshow this morning.

Who was she kidding? Dude had been trying to bone up on their universe for months, ever since he got dragged over here against his will and now Dr. Strange was hesitant to put him back for whatever reason.

It had been _her_ suggestion for him to watch morning television shows to try and acclimate.

Fuck. So he knew she was lying.

“Dammit, Reed. You owe me twice as many favors now.”

“How do you figure?”

“Are you fucking serious? Be prepared, that’s all I’m saying.” She ended the call and propped her head in her hands as a breeze blew past her desk and fluttered her post-its. She let the phone slide from her hand and without looking up, addressed the breeze, or more accurately, the cause of it. “Morning, Peter.”

“Morning.” Something slid against her elbow. Something cold. And smelling of coffee and caramel. And sugar. Fuck, he really knew her well, didn’t he? “Saw something interesting on TV this morning…”

“Oh?” she asked, pulling the drink over to take a sip. “You don’t say.”

“Yeah. Dr. Reed Richards was the phone in guest on Good Morning America. It took me all of about three seconds to figure out that douche-canoe isn’t your boyfriend. And if he is, He’s cheating on you with someone named Sue.”

Closing her eyes, she nodded. “Yeah, you caught me. Not my boyfriend. He’s my backup when I tell people I’m taken because lots of dudes won’t take no for an answer.”

“You actually haven’t said no… in any way shape or form,” Peter reminded her.

And of fucking course she hadn’t. Because look at him.

He had his stupid hair pulled back into a man-bun and was wearing some kind of scarf thing with a t-shirt. A pair of holey blue jeans and silver converse completed the ensemble, and he looked every bit the piece of garbage he was when she first saw him on the little screen back at Westview. 

And she wanted him at least three-hundred percent more than she had at first sight. It was ridiculous, how badly she wanted to yank him around by that stupid scarf.

She wondered if he’d go where she pulled him. 

He was currently standing about two paces away, leaning over her desk with both hands propping him up. It was if he was waiting for her to beckon him. Or pull him across the desk.

Short answer: yeah, he’d go where she wanted.

But that was neither here nor there.

Darcy sighed again, and he cleared his throat. “So if your answer is no, I’ll leave you alone, Darce. But you haven’t pushed me away or said no in any language, body, vocal, or otherwise. So I mean…”

Nope, she hadn’t. And she wasn’t going to either. Darcy knew herself better than to start giving in to the wishful thought that she would eventually make decisions for her own romantic betterment. That ship had sailed long ago.

She wouldn’t have to actually say no, hopefully. Because she had an idea. Sort of based on the movie that had come on cable the night before, and sort of based on the fact that she’d gotten very little sleep and had fallen asleep while it was on. 

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.

But she had to lose him in like ten minutes. She’d been working her whole life for this, and she was pretty sure she could pull it off. She’d just have to call in a few more favors, like with that Italian place she used to live above in grad school. She’d actually spotted Alonso some cash to help him when he lost three-quarters of his staff (and like half his client-base) with the snap, and hadn’t asked for any of it in return.

As a result, dude would basically hang the moon for her if possible.

So it shouldn’t be a huge deal to pull this off.

“So, are you asking me out?” she asked.

“Yeah… thought that was apparent by the many, _many_ times I’ve asked you out.”

She smirked. “We can go out if I can pick the restaurant.”

He grinned and it made her want to back out and just go on a real date. And probably take him back to her place and fall for him because he could probably go downtown like it was his job or something.

But she couldn’t because this was how it always happened. She’d get wooed by something stupid and fail to see the garbagey interior until the human dumpsters were practically living on her couch playing Fortnite or Overwatch, pissing off her dog, and killing her houseplants. All while she did their laundry.

She had a weakness. And it was for losers. They were her type. 

And Peter Maximoff had hot mess-slash-loser written all over him.

“You wanna pick the place? I’m there. Just like… text me the details?” he asked, pointing to his pocket for clarification, which was fucking adorable, now that she was noticing it. Texting wasn’t really a thing where he was from, which was like… forty years in the past, give or take a few years. And texting was new to him. He picked up the lingo, but still felt weird saying it, obviously.

Fucking adorable.

She smiled. “Not to worry. I’ll text ya the deets.”

“Yeah, I’m from the 80s and I’m pretty sure no one says that anymore.”

“Hush, you,” she said. “I have a doctorate, I can say whatever I want.”

He grinned and tapped his phone, before winking and zipping out in a blur.

God, she hoped the idiot didn’t hang himself on his scarf.

Sighing, she looked down at her keyboard, hearing the roll of wheels as Jane rolled her chair over next to her.

“Thought you weren’t going to date him?”

“I’m not. For longer than it takes to turn him off.”

“I dunno if you can, he looks like he’d kiss the ground you walked on if you asked him to.”

“Right. At least until I put out,” Darcy said. “Trashcan on two legs, remember?”

“Flaming,” Jane added.

“Yeah, that. I’m gonna be like the worst date ever and he’ll duck out in ten minutes. I’ve seen it done. It works.”

“In real life and not by Kate Hudson, I hope.”

Darcy was quiet and rested her head in her hands a few seconds later. 

“Question,” Jane said.

“Answer,” Darcy replied.

“On a scale of one to ten, how badly do you want him now?”

“Fifteen. Thousand,” Darcy said, groaning. “I’d have pulled that dork into a closet if there was one around here that didn’t smell like Pine-Sol.”

“I think you should give him a chance,” Jane said softly. Almost too softly to hear, but that could be due to her own questionable dating decisions.

“Don’t you have a god-boyfriend to catch up with?” Darcy asked.

Jane rolled away immediately. “He hasn’t called.”

“He’s off world,” Darcy said.

“Isn’t he always?” Jane asked.

She had her there. He was.

“So because you give your garbage man a chance, I should give mine one as well?” she asked.

“I say yes.”

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Darcy replied.

& & &

She dressed down for the date. Well, that was the understatement of the century. She was actually wearing last night’s pajamas. A pair of oversized sweatpants and a Culver T-shirt. With matching underwear and shaved legs because she just couldn’t force herself to go on a date without either of those things. Call her a mess, because she fucking was.

She’d called in a favor to Alonso’s, letting him know what was up That she was trying to scrape this guy, so to mess up his food and everything.

Alonso, to his merit, had asked what was wrong with the guy. 

All she’d had to say was that she liked him.

Alonso knew about her past boyfriends. She’d had two of them while living above his restaurant, so like… her reputation was well known at Alonso’s.

He promised they’d seat them in the worst table so Peter would keep getting smacked with the door to the kitchen every time it was opened.

Darcy venmo’d the waitstaff in advance, because she was going to be sending food back like a bajillion times, and they didn’t deserve having to deal with someone like that without at least knowing what was up and being compensated accordingly.

Maria, the head server, even promised to spill not one, but two drinks on Peter before the night was over.

So it was all set up, and all Darcy had to do, was glow down and meet him there.

She got there a little early, taking her seat at the table and making sure everything was imperfect before he got there. Or perfectly bad. Either one.

Darcy smirked when he arrived, hoping he’d make some kind of comment about her appearance,  b ut no such luck. Peter didn’t even say a word about what she was wearing. He just greeted her, pulling her in for a hug that she sort of didn’t want to end, and taking a seat as she took hers.

“Sorry about the attire, but I figure… if you’re paying, I want to wear my comfy pants.” She smirked and snapped her waistband, behavior to which he didn’t falter for a second. He did jolt when the door opened and smacked his leg, however, pulling his leg in and out of the way as Maria bustled to the table, popping gum loudly. Darcy had to stifle a grin, glancing down at her menu instead. “They have a great chicken parm here.”

He arched an eyebrow but replied. “I love chicken parm.”

Mara spoke in rapid Italian, which Darcy knew a small amount of. Enough to order food, and to give her specific directions about the food she wanted to order.

Peter, not given the chance to order in English, simply ordered the same as she did, and leveled his gaze on her as Maria took the menus and left, the door hitting him and making him wince as she left to the kitchen.

“So. You know Italian?” he asked.

“Enough.”

“Impressive.”

She sniffed. “I know the food words, don’t get too excited.”

“Too late,” Peter said, even though he was as calm as she’d ever seen him before.

Maria pushed the door open, thwacking Peter’s knee in the process, bringing two glasses of ice water, the first of which, she promptly spilled all over Peter, apologizing repeatedly and shooting Darcy a wink before dropping her hand towel down for him to mop it up himself as she went to get something else to clean it.

Of course, the little inconvenience didn’t seem to sway Peter at all. He simply mopped it up, rose to zip around the building and dry off before taking his seat again before Maria even returned with the other towels.

“That’s unfortunate,” Darcy said, her meaning the opposite of how Peter took it.

He shrugged. “Not a big deal, it’s just water. At least she didn’t spill wine, right?”

It was almost as if Maria was standing on the other side of the door, because she came out with a dry cloth and two glasses of the house red.

“Compliments of the owner, I’m so sorry about the water,” she said, dipping down to scoot the glasses towards each of them. Darcy winced as Peter’s went flying, drenching the front of his t-shirt with red wine.

He sighed, righting the glass and standing to dab at the fabric with the fresh towel she’d brought him.

“Oh no! I am so sorry, sir. So sorry!” Maria said, trying to help him clean the mess off his shirt.

Darcy had to stifle a laugh because it sort of made her feel bad, how much he was trying to be reasonable, even though his shirt was ruined. She’d have to like… replace it or something. Because that wine got him good. And his shirt was white.

Once she left again, Peter took a seat again. “Well, I guess I spoke too soon.”

“I mean, you can barely notice it,” Darcy said, trying to smile and not burst out laughing in his face.

He gave her an incredulous look. “Maybe from the space shuttle.”

“Oh, did you find the Discovery channel?” she asked, grinning broadly.

“Wiki,” he said. “Super helpful. Except the internet thing is slower than my brain works, so it makes reading things on it really weird.” He gave her a shrug and gave up trying to clean off his shirt. “So how’s work?”

“I uhh, I’ve been working on this time hop thing. I call it SKIP. Super-Kinetic-Interspacial-Procedure. It like… utilizes kinetic energy to propel the user through time and space. Some straight up Doctor Who shit.”

“Not quite caught up on that show yet…”

“Well. To hear Dr. Banner explain it, it’s a time machine, but I like SKIP better.”

“It’s clearly a superior name,” Peter said, leaning back in his seat, manspreading like whoa.

_Be still my stupid heart._

Of course, at that precise moment, the door to the kitchen opened again and Peter swore, pulling his knee away again as Maria and another food server came out to present their entrees.

Darcy sucked her teeth, turning the plate and tapping at the garlic bread. “Maria… babe, I’m sorry… but I need a new plate.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” the other woman asked, looking for all the world like she was so concerned with Darcy’s issue that it almost made her laugh.

“Garlic bread’s in the sauce. It’s gonna be all soggy, can’t eat it.”

“I could bring you a new piece of bread, ma’am,” Maria offered, eyebrows raised and Darcy almost hated to do this to her, but she knew they were all expecting it.

“No… I think I need a new plate altogether, sorry….” Darcy shrugged comically and Maria took the plate back. 

“Just a moment, ma’am.”

Peter was eying her from the other side of the table, not with disdain that she’d sort of been hoping for, but with curiosity, like he was trying to figure her out. He put down his fork and pushed his plate back, signalling he was going to wait for her to eat with him. 

Fuck, he was so polite. And not storming out of here either.

“So what’s new besides SKIP?” he asked.

“Well, Reed Richards now owes me twice as many favors as before,” she began.

He snorted. “That dude’s a dick. Can’t even remember to fake date you? Whatta loser.”

That made her blush a little, but she just shrugged and stirred her ice in her glass. “I mean you’re not wrong. I’m a catch.”

“Tell me about it. Still trying to catch you,” he said.

She bit her lip because of fucking course he’d say the most perfect thing ever.

When the food came back, she sent it back again, claiming the sauce was too watery this time. 

Maria was feigning annoyance, but Peter was absolutely perfect, slicing up his chicken and offering some to her. 

“Want some of mine to tide you over?” he asked, pushing the plate into the middle of the table.

She sort of did. She wasn’t kidding about this place’s chicken parm. It was amazing.

But she shook her head. “No. You can eat, though. If you’re hungry, I mean.”

“Nah, I’ll wait for you.”

Why in the hell wasn’t he leaving? He’d been hit by the door no less than twelve times by now, and hadn’t taken a bite of his food while she kept arbitrarily sending hers back. She was dressed like a schlub, not hot in the slightest. Hell, she’d even washed off her eye makeup. Most dudes would have been heading for the hills by now.

But not Peter.

If anything, he was studying her more intently.

By the time she’d sent back the food four times, she decided to call it quits, tell Peter she didn’t want any of it, and arguing with Maria (fake arguing) in rapid Italian. Of course, a lot of hers was gibberish, but it sounded good. The server pretended to be angry and comped the meal she’d already paid for in advance.

Of course, she also comped Peter’s which she wasn’t supposed to do.

But it was no matter, Darcy had a plan B. She didn’t get a doctorate post-snap due to her good looks. Nope. She got it because she was hella good at planning things. That, and Janey had been gone, so like… the world needed an astrophysicist. Even if she couldn’t be as good, she could at least be, right?

Anywho, there was a carnival set up in a park a few blocks from her apartment. And in it, was a wonky, dated tunnel of love. It was super slow and disgusting. Peter would _hate_ it.

He seemed mildly excited about the carnival, and didn’t bat an eye when she suggested the take a spin through the tunnel, in fact he seemed almost excited to strap into the rickety swan right beside her, his leg warm and brushing against hers.

Never mind that the ride operator bumped into Darcy more than was strictly necessary, which caused Peter to eye him cautiously. 

Darcy looked down to buckle herself in, and by the time she’d finished, Peter was flush up against her, his arm around her shoulders as he relaxed back in the seat, shooting the ride operator (appropriately named Derek, according to his name tag) a snarky grin as the ride started.

Once they’d rounded the corner in the tunnel, Peter sat forward and pulled out his phone, looking at it intently.

Darcy glanced down at the water, not wanting to admit how much she’d liked having his arm around her. “Oh look. Tunnel scum.” Her eyes widened. “Nope, never mind. Used condom. Lovely. That reminds me…” She turned to face him, eyes narrowing when she saw the phone in his hands. Definitely not his.

He was holding it over the side of the swan and snapping a picture of the floating condom.

“Really? What does that remind you of?” he asked.

“Whose phone is that?”

“The guy running the ride,” he answered nonchalantly. “Still unsure of why that floating condom reminded you of that, but to each their own. Not gonna argue with your genius brain, Beautiful.”

“Bruh. Give it back.”

He snorted. “That asshole won’t miss it. I’ll give it back when we leave… “ He started swiping through the phone. “Good old Derek back there tried to pickpocket you when we got on. So I got this for collateral in case he actually tried anything.” Peter smirked.

Oh god, he was hot. He was so hot.

“So… back to you. What does the floater remind you of?” he asked.

“That I have… V.D,” she blurted, wishing she hadn’t started this conversation at all.

He frowned. “Oh really? I’m downloading the WebMD app. Tell me which one you have.”

“What?” she asked, blinking.

“Tell me which V.D you have… I’d like to know what I’m getting into. I’m immune to some of them thanks to my handy lil X-gene.”

“Spontaneous Dental Hydroplosion,” she blurted, wishing like hell she had practiced this a little more.

He paused in mid-swipe. “That’s not real…” he tapped around and chuckled. “That’s an Office joke.”

She groaned. “How do you even know that?”

“Well, I’m only on my second watch-through of it, but I also have Google,” he said, wriggling the phone.

“Just… stop searching things on the pickpocket’s phone…”

“Sure, just a sec. I’m changing his background picture to the condom in the water. Also sending it to everyone in his contacts, telling them he’s a thief.”

“ _Peter_.”

“What? He is.”

“So are you.”

“I am _not_ a thief. I’m just an improvisor. Like MacGyver.”

Darcy sighed, deciding to let that one go because she wasn’t about to get into a MacGyver argument in the tunnel of love. 

Peter put the phone down. “Kay, so tell me. Why are you pretending you have VD? Why are you taking me on the worst date ever to make me not like you? None of that would work, by the way, I have amazingly low standards when it comes to cute people.” He winked and Darcy felt her cheeks pink up despite where they were. “Also sweatpants are so fucking hot so like… missed the mark if that’s not what you were going for.”

She rolled her eyes and reached over to pluck the ride person’s phone out of Peter’s hand. “I guess it’s more for me than for you. See, I’m a danger to myself when it comes to certain people. I have a type and you tick like… every single one of the boxes.”

“Really?” he grinned and she shook her head.

“Don’t get excited, my type is a walking dumpster fire.”

He pursed his lips as if considering it before nodding. “Yeah, that tracks. I’ll take it.”

She snorted in laughter and looked down at the phone in her hands, the floating condom was not only in the background but the lock screen as well. “Well, the problem with having that as my type is that I’ve been burned before.”

“By the dumpster fire,” he supplied.

“Yeah. By the dumpster fire,” she agreed. “Look, I know how this goes, Peter. We’ll go hot and heavy for a while, but then I wake up in three months and you’re living on my couch, pissing off Pickles, my dog, having killed at least five or six of my houseplants, and I’ll be doing your laundry even though you’re sexting some other girl while I’m at work and honestly… I’m over it. I can’t do it again.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Peter said slowly, eyes narrowing slightly. Not in a malicious way, but in contemplation.

“Yeah,’ she said with a dry laugh. “There’s a reason for that.”

He was quiet for a long minute. “Um… if that’s the case then you have nothing to worry about.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because, not that you have any reason to believe me, but I would never, ever text someone else if I was with you.”

“Sext,” she corrected. “You’d sext them. Not the same. Texting can be innocuous. No way can sexting be anything but cheating.”

“Dude, I would never,” he countered.

“Yeah, okay,” she smirked and leaned back, handing him the phone back. “They _always_ say that. It’s like the motto of the human dumpster fire. ‘ _You’re the only one I want, baby. You’re hot as hell, I’d have to be stupid to do that.’_ And yes, you’d be right. You would be, and _are_ stupid. Because it’s a lie and you totally would sext another girl given the chance.” She sniffed and sighed, looking anywhere but him, but it was difficult because it was dark on the ride. And she was totally wishing she’d just told him this earlier when she was at work with Jane. Because she couldn’t take the empty promises and the pity in his eyes.

“So, you’re not interested in a romance however fleeting,” Peter said slowly. “So, how about we just have fun, then?”

“What?” she asked, turning to look at him. “I don’t do casual. Not hardwired that way, sorry.”

“No, not that, I mean… as friends? We go hang out? Have fun? I’m pretty good at ski ball and there’s a booth I saw on the way in.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you good at ski ball or are you good at _cheating_ at ski ball?”

“Both. I mean, in the process of cheating, I actually learned how.” He grinned in a crooked kind of way that made her feel all warm inside.

“So you’re good with this not becoming anything?” she asked.

“Who says it’s not? So we can’t sleep together or any of that stuff. Doesn’t mean I’m not in desperate need of friends, Lewis. Get your mind out of the gutter. I know it’s difficult with a specimen such as me sitting right here, but…”

She reached out and swatted his shoulder and he let her, smiling and relaxing as the ride finished.

Peter replaced Derek’s phone on the podium when he wasn’t looking, zipping back to her side before the ride’s operator was any the wiser.

As they walked, Peter shoved his hands into his pockets, walking in the direction of a booth with flashing yellow lights and three ski-ball lanes.

As it turned out, he really _was_ good at this kind of thing, he won her a big, pink teddy bear that looked possessed, Darcy was both in awe and afraid of the thing, which she dragged under her arm as they left the carnival.

“What are you naming it?” he asked, bopping the thing in the nose. “Looks like a Jeffrey to me.”

“As in Dahmer? Dude, I am not taking that into my apartment with a name like that. I’m naming him Cuddles.”

“I wasn’t even thinking that,” Peter protested. “And even if I was, you wouldn’t be at risk with Dahmer. I’m more his type.”

She snorted. “Still. Don’t need that energy in my place.”

“Your eighty houseplants wouldn’t balance that out?”

“Approximately eighty. I haven’t counted them in a while.”

“You should. Sounds like some kind of record or something. That many living things in a studio apartment.”

“You know, you’re right. I could probably put that on my dating profile, right? I’m cute, smart, a doctor, but I live with eighty-one roommates, so…”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He just shrugged. “It might work.”

“It wouldn’t,” she said with a laugh. “I’m gonna take that thing down anyway. I think I’m destined to provide my mother with pothos progagations instead of grandbabies, and that’s totally cool. I like my hips at their current width and I like not knowing what it’s like to pass a watermelon through my vagina, so…”

“Can’t really blame you,” he said. “I mean, Wanda’s kids were kind of fun, when I forgot I wasn’t being mind-controlled for like three nanoseconds, but I don’t think I’d want any of my own.”

“You don’t want to pass on your silver hair and x-gene to any crotch goblins?” she asked, grinning.

“Not really, no,” he said with a smirk.

“Fair. It’s a weird world we live in.”

She pulled out her phone to summon an Uber. Peter stopped her. “I can take you home… if you don’t mind going piggyback.”

“Where’s Cuddles going?” she asked, gesturing to the bear.

“I guess back there too,’ he said, sighing in mock exasperation.

She grinned. “It’s no trouble to get a cab.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, grabbing the bear and smashing it to his front. “Hop on.”

“Peter… are you—“

“Hop on, I won’t get any ideas in the half a second it’ll take to run you home. Just duck your head, Darcy.”

She hopped on his back, feeling a little bit weirded out, but it was all over in a split second anyway, and she was dizzy in front of her building.

She let out a laugh. “Thanks for walking me home…”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, handing over Cuddles and again jamming his hands in his pockets. “Wanted to make sure you got here safely and everything…

“I know, I’m bound to attract attention in my baggy sweatpants.”

“I mean, you’d attract mine, but I guess I’m not normal in that respect?” he laughed, and so did she.

“No, I mean. It wouldn’t stop a dude if he was set out to do something. Guys are gross.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, we are.”

“So thanks. For the ‘ride’ home, and for agreeing to be just friends, and for not running away when you got attacked by the door at the restaurant earlier.”

He smiled. “If being friends is all we ever are, I’d count myself lucky, Darce. And the door was more surprising than painful so not a huge deal at all.”

An ache appeared in her chest, right over her heart, and he leaned in to hug her goodbye, waiting for her to step up to her door before he started walking away.

Walking. Slowly.

It was weird for sure. Weird that it was normal. Peter didn’t do normal guy things.

_Shit. Wait a minute._

He didn’t do normal guy things. He was different. Whilst most guys would have run for the hills at the sight of her without makeup, he seemed not to care. He was dumpster shaped, but the trash was only skin-deep.

Shit, shit, shit. She’d tossed out a Jason Mendoza thinking he was a Johnny Storm. 

Big Mistake. Huge. To quote her favorite rom-com out of context.

Was he too far away to call back? Would he come back if she called?

Wouldn’t know if she didn’t try. She cupped a hand around her mouth, using the other to hoist Cuddles into a better grip.

But when she did, Peter was there before she could call out a single syllable.

“So like, how was that? Not creepy, right?” Peter asked. “Just wanting to know.”

He must have run back immediately after reaching the end of the block.

“I don’t want to be creepy, and I want to emphasize that I want to be friends,” he continued.

She jammed the key in the door and unlocked it, reaching for the neck of his t-shirt and dragging him inside with her, tossing the bear to the side and pushing Peter back against the door once she’d closed it.

Pickles did not come to meet them at the door, which meant she was likely already snoring for the night. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t wake up and see Peter here, but Darcy figured there’d be time for introductions later. Her dog was pretty easy going, so long as someone wasn’t trying their damnedest to annoy her.

“Whoa…” he murmured, “Not expecting that…”

His hands remained idle at her waist as she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him. God, he was a good kisser. She knew he would be. Just the right amount of pressure and he didn’t try to jam his tongue into her mouth.

“Darcy… need you to tell me exactly what’s happening here because I thought you didn’t…”

“Turns out I do… and I don’t care if you’re a piece of garbage, I want to make the best of it.” She wasn’t about to tell him about her Jason Mendoza theory.

“I’m not going to… you know… I like you. You’re the only one I—“

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Peter…”

“I try not to,” he murmured, running his fingers through her hair and pressing his lips to hers fervently. Darcy’s hands skimmed down over his abs and tucked into the front of his jeans, working open his belt first and finally the button and zip.

He cradled the back of her head. “Hold on, kay?”

She did, gripping his biceps as he zipped them back to her bedroom, only after stopping in her spare room and the bathroom before finding the correct room.

“Sorry, I didn’t know which room was yours,” he murmured, catching her lips and slipping his hands under the hem of her t-shirt, rucking it up and over her head.

“No worries,” she reached down to undo the tie on her sweatpants, dropping them and kicking them off as she climbed up onto the bed.

He pushed his jeans down and yanked his shirt up over his head, becoming a bit of a blur as he shed most of his clothing, kicking off his shoes and socks as he clamored up with her, starting out beside her, but she coaxed him to climb on top of her, so he did.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he ducked down to kiss her.

“Hey,” she echoed, giggling as he kissed along her jaw and down her throat. His lips were hot on her skin, and she wasn’t sure if that was because he ran hotter or if she’d caught a chill from all his zipping around or something. “You’re warm…”

“Sort of part of the deal, glad it’s not annoying,’ he murmured, sucking a spot on her throat before kissing down over her collarbone.

“Not at all,’ she sighed, her fingers tangling in his hair as he brought one hand up to cup her breast. 

She was never so thankful for her weird compulsion to wear matching underwear on a date now.

Peter let out a shaky breath as he pushed up on his knees, lips kissing softly over the swell of her breast. “This okay?” he asked. She nodded and he gulped as he tugged down on the lacy cup of her bra. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, drawing on it slowly while she whimpered beneath him.

His tongue buzzed against her skin, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Fuck,” she said, gripping his hair. He released her with a soft pop.

“No good? I was just trying something.”

“ _Very_ good,” she corrected him. “Just… not expecting you to… vibrate.”

“Really?” he asked, laughing a little. “Felt like that was a given…” 

“Nope,” she murmured, gasping when he ducked down and did it again. “Fuck, Peter…”

He seemed amused by her reaction, as he switched to the other side, he repeated the action a few times, at least until he reached around behind her to unhook her bra, tugging the garment off and tossing it aside as he ducked down further, kissing over her stomach and hip, his fingers dragging the waistband of her lacy panties down over her hips.

Darcy gripped his head as he moved, but she didn’t stop him, and he seemed to realize that, because he hoisted one of her thighs over his shoulder and nuzzled against her pussy, groaning as he started licking her open.

“Fuck,” she squealed, gripping his hair tighter as he started to roll his tongue over her clit.

She was just getting used to him being down there when he buzzed her clit with his tongue, causing her to groan loudly and call out his name. Which only seemed to urge him on.

The time between the buzzes became smaller and smaller and she felt his moan against her sensitive skin, his fingers tucking into her opening before his tongue buzzed over her clit and held position there.

She choked out his name, gripping his hair so hard she felt a few strands come away in her hand around the same time as she tipped over the edge. Nevertheless, he didn’t stop until she asked him to, chanting, ‘okay, okay, okay…”

“Okay?” he said, wiping his mouth on his hand and moving up in front of her faster than she could blink. Of course, she was sort of laying in a haze, so that might not have been all that fast. Knowing him, it was, though.

She draped her arms over his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. A kiss that was noticeably sloppy, given how his lips were likely just super busy. Plus, he tasted like her.

Darcy lazily wrapped one leg around his waist, arching up against him. She could feel his erection in his shorts, pressing against the juncture of her thigh.

“So um… you okay for…” he asked, swallowing thickly.

She nodded and he shifted, his boxers disappearing across the room.

“You good like this, or do you want a different position?” he asked. He’d no sooner asked than Darcy was rolling both of them over until she was straddling him, bending over him so her hair was falling in his face.

“So yes, a different position?” he asked, his hands coming down to rest on her waist as she kissed him again, shifting so she was hovering over him. She wrapped her hand around his cock and pumped it a couple of times, his eyes fluttered and his words stuttered, his hands tightening on her waist. “Fuck, Darcy… I’m… really not used to that…”

“Really?” she grinned and rubbed her thumb over the tip. “You should probably masturbate more. I thought you’d be pretty good at it…”

“No, not that, I just…” His eyes closed as she worked him in her hand. “Not used to someone else touching me.”

Her smile softened as she gazed down at him, she shifted and bent down to capture his lips. “Want me to take it slower?”

“No,” he said, grinning against her lips before kissing her again. “No, I just… I should probably tell you… I’m not super fast when it comes to this. Like not as fast as I am at everything else… but I need like… no time at all to go again, so like… just be sure you tell me when it’s enough, okay?”

“Even if you…” she mimed a somewhat comical wild firehose kind of situation. 

“Yeah,” he said. “And also, on that note… do you need me to wear a condom or something? I have some if you…”

“Oh yeah, sorry. I’m on birth control. It’s a shot thing I take once a week or whatever. So yeah. I’m good.”

“Oh… a shot, really?”

“Yeah, want me to show you the brochure, or would you rather if I mounted this dick instead?”

He laughed and she did as well, wrinkling her nose as he kissed the tip of it. “I mean, I’ll do anything you ask, so if you think I should read up on it, I’m down… fuck, Darcy…”

She rose and slotted the tip of his cock inside her, sinking slowly and watching his eyes roll back, his knees bending, toes curling, from what she could tell, which wasn’t much from her vantage point, but if she had to guess, it felt good.

Sort of nice, having this much power over someone. But really, more than watching him squirm, she wanted him to feel good. Because he made her feel good. And that’s all they fucking had right now was feeling good.

When she started to move, he did a lot of things. One of them was moan, which was hot as _fuck_ , and she was so psyched to have found a guy who wasn’t afraid to moan.

She pressed both hands against his chest and leaned forward, using her hands to balance so she could move her hips.

“Darce…” he whispered, pushing up to kiss her lips. His teeth sank into her bottom lip, but it felt so good, and he practically whimpered into her mouth, parting his lips and surging up once more, his hands gripping her hips now, helping her move up and down.

“God,” she murmured.

“That’s sort of formal,” he whispered. “Peter’s fine.”

Arching her eyebrow, she pushed up, reaching for his hands and using them to hold her up, fingers clasped as she pushed down, giving herself leverage to rock up and down on top of him.

His mouth fell open and he panted her name up into the ceiling as she moved, clearly still too slow, but she had to say, she wasn’t sorry, it made him practically beg with his eyes, even though his lips kept chanting her name.

Arching her back, she gazed up at the ceiling and chased that feeling deep inside, the little twinge that told her she could come again, and she would if proper attention was paid to that little spot.

The one that once she found it, once his cock started pressing against it, made her mouth fall open, and a fucking onslaught of dirty language began to pour out of it. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she groaned, her body clenching around him, pulling her pleasure to the forefront, and causing him to murmur softly, hands still supporting her, “That’s it, like that Darce… just like that, fuck, you’re so beautiful…”

She would have told him thanks, but she didn’t. Instead, she shook through another orgasm, her second of the evening, her walls clenching around him even as he rolled them over, her on her back as he pushed into her.

“I can stay inside?” he whispered, hips moving as he pressed his forehead against hers briefly, lips catching hers for a sloppy kiss that ended almost before it started. She nodded fervently, and his hands went to the backs of her knees, pushing her legs back and bending her lower half so he could fuck into her a bit more quickly.

Not too quickly, but like… 

Quick enough.

“Yes, stay inside,” she murmured. “Come inside me, Peter.”

“Fuck, Darce…” He grit his teeth for a split second before giving over to the feeling clearly pulling at his gut, his last few thrusts rattled her teeth, but he had collapsed against her before she realized it. He wasn’t breathing hard from the exertion, but likely from arousal, silver hair falling in his face. He slowed to a stop and sat back on his heels, hands still gripping the backs of her knees as her legs drifted down on either side of him. She sort of wished she could have watched a bit more because his arms were fucking gorgeous, but she supposed it wasn’t a big deal. This wasn’t the last time she was riding this ride, she’d get plenty of ogling in between now and then.

She let her arms fall beside her, bringing them up to clasp together over her ribs soon after.

“Fuck,” he said, pushing forward to kiss her. “Fuck, that was… fuck…”

“Agreed,” she breathed. “We are too good at that not to do it more.”

“Fine by me,” he said, grinning. She pushed up and pulled her legs in so she could turn and rise, go to the restroom.

“Wait,” he said, zipping out of the room. She heard the water running as he came back, wet washcloth in hand, which he handed to her.

“Wow, a good lay and a fucking gentleman. I lucked out.”

He smirked at her, taking a seat at the end of the bed. “Not sure about the gentleman part of that, I did just dive between your legs a few minutes ago.”

“I mean, I’m not complaining about that…”

“No, but I could have asked.”

“Okay, so a good lay with a rude mouth. Better?”

“Somewhat,” he said, slipping in beside her, sliding into her hip, and laying his head on her shoulder. “Something tells me the rude mouth isn’t a bad thing, though.”

“Not at all. Not bad at all,” she assured him.

“Let me know whenever you’re good to go again, because like…” He rocked against her hip, dick still hard and noticeable. “Just whenever you’re ready.”

Her legs were already screaming at her, muscles clearly out of practice for these kinds of shenanigans, but she was never one to back down in the face of fun.

And fucking him was… god, it was so fun.

“Ready,” she whispered, turning to kiss him and slipping her thigh up and over his waist. His hand gripped her under her knee as he turned, finding the correct angle to press into her from this position.

He whispered her name when he did, eyes fluttering closed as he kissed her hard.

Yeah, so she was wrong before. He wasn’t a Jason Mendoza.

This dude wasn’t like anyone else. He was better. He was a Peter Maximoff and she couldn’t believe she’d almost thrown this away.

Not gonna make that mistake again, no sir.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some sugar, y'all. xoxo!


End file.
